How Cold Water Helps Me Cope

At summer camp, I was notorious for taking the longest to get into the frigid lake for swimming lessons. Once the camp director had to yell at me to get me in the water for a swim test (I did pass and get my red cross badge). Over the years … nothing has changed. I have honed the art of slow immersion-one toe at a time, one ankle at a time, light splashes on my arms and face-often only to retreat out of the water before fully plunging in. No matter how many people said to me, “You’ll feel great once you’ve plunged,” I never found this encouragement a motivation. I know how great I can feel after a cold plunge. I just can’t bring myself to do it. You don’t need to tell me that doesn’t make sense. I know.

Until a few days ago.

I went to a spa for the afternoon with a friend. We followed the guidelines to the letter. 15 minutes in the sauna (or steam room, or hot pool), followed by a brief cold plunge, then a period of rest (in my case, with Marilynne Robinson’s novel Jack, which I’m loving). Repeat. And again. And again. For the first time. Ever. In my life. I walked right into the cold plunge. Not one moment of hesitation. Full immersion. Pause for a few breaths underwater and then climb out an unhurried pace.

I know that there are many stalwart winter swimmers and WimHoffers who read and write for this blog, so I feel some trepidation sharing…